Cassiopeia
by Bradamante13
Summary: Or Whoops I Just Stuck My Arm in a Wormhole and Got Sucked into Tortall. Laurie needs to find her way home, get the guy, and learn to live without Cheetos. What's a girl to do? How about find a calling? Rating for occasional language.
1. A Very Bad Day

Author's Note: I have no pretensions about this story. It is nothing but pointless, vain self-indulgence. The original "Cassiopeia" was a Mary-Sue self-insert with horrible grammar and a worse plot (which can still be read under my old pen name, Laurie Makensri, if you're looking for a good laugh at my expense) that I wrote in junior high. I came across it last summer and decided it would be a fun little exercise if I tried to rewrite it. So I present my labors to you, the ultimate judges, for mockery and snickers (no, not the candy, though that does sound tasty). Enter at your own risk.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that does not belong to me. If I did, I would be a thief. Not that there's anything wrong with thieves-- I was rooting for George all the way and if Rosto existed I would glomp him until he cried for mercy. But I am not a thief. The writer formerly known as Laurie Makensri, now Bradamante13, owns the title, character, plot, and everything that does not belong to Tamora Pierce. Because otherwise she would be a thief. That would make me a thief, and then we'd be running in circles and that would be just plain silly.

Cassiopeia

Chapter One: A Very Bad Day

This is a story about knights and ladies, kings and queens, pages and squires, Immortals and gods.

In short, it's about Tortall. So you can tell right off the bat it's going to be pretty wild.

The day the madness commenced just happened to be the spring equinox. It was Friday, lovely and sunny, uncommonly warm for mid-March in Iowa. All in all, it should have been a wonderful day for me. School had been less "blah" than usual, the teachers giving in to the general atmosphere of Friday craziness. I was due at my friend Jess's house for a sleepover in an hour, and she and Juls and I were planning all sorts of shenanigans. We were going to watch bad movies, dare each other to phone our crushes, and debate if Kel would end up with Neal or Cleon: the norm for three fifteen-year-olds at the bottom of the freshman food chain. There would be pepperoni pizza and copious amounts of sugar– two of my favorite things in the world. Juls was going to bring her entire Backstreet Boys collection, and we would laugh and scream and wake up Jess's brother.

But all was not right with the world. If it were, I wouldn't have found my way to the park and wandered into a little cusp of trees behind the swing set. Other people knew, of course, about this place– they had put in a bench, after all– but they didn't seem to care. So I slid past the kids and parents into my little grove. Pines, elms, a big oak; there was even an old purple lilac that would bloom in a few weeks. This was my spot, my thinking spot.

Odd as it sounds to consider a basic function of existence a hobby, I thought a lot, and not just the minimal amount that my classmates believed was wasted energy. I could wander away for a few hours and just walk around the neighborhood and think things through. I would suddenly realize that it was dark and I'd spent hours outside in the snow, and when I turned up my mother wouldn't say a word. She was used to it.

Today, though, my friends had wanted me to go to the mall with them, or something, something _fun_. A movie, maybe. I told them no. Today had already been bad, and I wanted to be alone. I needed to think, because today should have been good. But, of course, it wasn't. Because I'd woken up this morning and seen _his_ face on the front page of the paper.

_He _was getting out, and I was pissed. He'd gotten ten years, and he should have to serve every damn one of them. But, no, in Iowa, voluntary manslaughter sentences were almost always reduced by half automatically. So five years was all he'd get, and my dad would spend the next five years, and the five after that, and the five after that, the next five hundred years, in his casket. Five years, and that stupid idiot who decided to drive home drunk that night would be out.

So I blame _him_ for everything that happened next. If he hadn't made me so damn upset, I wouldn't have behaved irrationally. I wouldn't have seen that green spot in the lilac bush that looked "not right," and I sure as hell would not have gotten curious and stuck my arm in.

That was, of course, a big mistake, and everything started moving and spinning. I felt like I was being sucked into a giant vacuum. I thought my head would pop off, and I didn't feel anything– almost like I'd been sucked right out of existence– until the pain started, and fire was running through every muscle in my body– I was burning from the inside out, I wanted my mom, I wanted my mom, ow ow–

I hit the ground, hard. Something in my arm snapped as I landed. It was dark. I opened my eyes. Damn; it was still dark. I blinked a few times, and realized that I was in a forest. A clearing, I guess. And directly above me, in the suddenly cobalt sky, were six shining dots in the shape of a W. That was all I noticed before I blacked out. Helpful, huh?

---

So, the ground is hard. Roots stick in your back and wrench your muscles out of place. Little crawly things start moving and–

"Hey, Kel!"

"What is it?" Gasp. "Get Neal."

The ground started to shake, and it felt like every shift was intended specifically to bang me on the head. Tlot-ow, tlot-ow. I tried to lift my head, but my neck hurt, too. "Ohhhh," I moaned.

"Stay still."

"Okay," I croaked. That didn't feel too good, either. Opening my eyes was not worth the risk. "Would you mind giving me some morphine or killing me now?"

"What?"

"Everything hurts." Well, at least I don't usually sound like a frog, I thought. My luck I did now.

And then the tlot-ow, tlot-ow started again. Double.

"Gods, Kel, don't tell me you found another stray!"

"Stuff it, Neal, she's hurt. Get down here."

"I hope you know that I'm not a charity healer for every creature you pick up." Something touched my arm, and I croak-screamed. "Quiet," the same man said. "Don't fight me."

Healers are wonderful things. They kick in faster than aspirin, and they have more staying power. A marvelous numbness replaced the pain instantly, and I thought it might be worth it to open my eyes.

A young man with green eyes, brown hair, and a flared nose examined my face. On my other side, a younger girl, about my age, looked at the man, her hazel eyes worried.

"Better?" he asked. I nodded, very happy that I could move my head.

"I took care of the muscle ache and the joint pain, but you'll have to see a real healer for the break in your arm."

"You're not the real thing? I'd never know," I said, using the arm that hurt less to sit up. The girl immediately put her hands on my shoulders and helped me. The man took out a flask and held it to my lips. I regarded it a little suspiciously, then sniffed. Not alcohol, so I sipped. Water. I never thought water would make me so happy.

"Faleron," the girl said, in a loud, commanding tone, "you'd better tell the others that Neal and I will not be rejoining the party." The remark, I realized, was directed at a boy still seated on his horse, and when he answered, his voice was the same as the first that I'd heard. He turned the horse around and trotted off. I was immensely satisfied that I didn't feel every hoof beat in my already aching skull.

"Can you walk, mistress?" the girl asked. She glanced strangely at my clothing. Ok, I know that the jeans weren't the most flattering and my shirt was a little tight at the moment, but _that_ look was really unnecessary. And at another time, I would have found it hysterical that she called me "mistress."

"I can try. I'll fall, but I can try," I replied. It was much easier to talk now that my throat wasn't coated with who-knows-what.

She smiled a little. "Then you had best stay here."

"Where is 'here'?" I asked carefully. I had never seen these people before, and I didn't think I was in Kansas– whoops, wrong state– Iowa anymore.

"You are in the Royal Forest, just outside of Corus," she answered.

I grinned, completely inane. "Hey, you rhymed."

The man rolled his eyes.

"You'd better come with us to the palace with us, mistress. It's not too far, and you'd see a real healer–"

I stopped in my tracks. "Palace? What?" I looked around– nothing was remotely familiar. "Say where I am again."

The man broke in, his voice tired. "If you just want her to rhyme again–"

I cut him off. "No, I don't. I promise. Ma'am, would you repeat where I am?" I was internally amazed that I was referring to this girl as "ma'am." I mean, who even _uses_ that word?

"You're a little way outside of Corus."

"Corus where?"

"Corus, the capital of Tortall."

My legs gave out under me. That damn hard ground again. At that moment, I didn't notice I bruised my knees. This was not true. They were kidding. No other explanation. It was impossible. It couldn't be true– because if it was, I was in some deep shit.

"Tor– Tortall?" I stuttered.

I was saved from awkward questioning by a sudden torrent of hoof beats. Five boys on horses trotted into the clearing. A big redhead shouted, "Kel, Faleron told us you and Neal found a hurt girl, so we thought you might need some help!"

The girl– her being Kel made a lot of sense– narrowed her eyes and said, "Don't lie, Kennan. You just came to gawk, didn't you?"

Kennan– Cleon of Kennan, that is– smiled sheepishly. Another redhead said, "He may have come to gawk, Kel, but I came with the pure intention of helping you get the injured lady to the palace." Since he was grinning widely as he said this, I had a feeling he was joking. That and the fact that the Merric I knew (I assumed he was Merric) would never speak with such pomp.

As this exchange was going on, the boy from earlier– Faleron, whose glorious good looks had not been done justice in the books– had dismounted. He walked over to me and said, with a pointed glare at Neal (flared nose, green eyes, tall–it should have been so obvious), "Mistress, would you like a hand?"

Still not sure my legs would hold me, since they were shaking madly, I answered, "Thank you." Carefully he bent down and put his arm around my waist, holding my good hand with his. Because our audience mainly consisted of teenage boys, his performance earned quite a few whistles. Both he and Kel glared at them.

Neal cleared his throat, and everyone turned to him. "Kel, what should we do about this...situation?"

Kel sighed. "I suppose– mistress, what did you say your name was?"

"I didn't. It's Laurie Makensri."

"And, Mistress Makensri, where did you say you were from?"

"I didn't. Iowa."

"_Where_ now?" Neal asked.

Oh, this would be fun. I should have told them I was a prostitute from Galla or a runaway princess from Carthak or an abused lady from a convent, I thought unhappily. That would take less explaining. "Can I explain later?" I asked.

"Of course. After you've seen a healer," Kel said firmly.

"Thank you." That was a relief. My arm was throbbing, even though the rest of me wasn't so bad anymore.

Kel glanced around at the horses and said, "Faleron, your mare's the most docile. Will she take another rider?"

Faleron grinned, his white teeth flashing in his tan face. "Of course. This way, mistress." He let go, and I braced myself for hitting that stupid ground again, but Faleron grabbed my waist before I did.

"Whoops," I said weakly. He smiled and left his arm where it was as he led me to his horse. It was a nice feeling. I decided that I liked being half-carried by handsome squires. I smiled gratefully and whispered, "Thank you."

My good feelings vanished when I saw the horse I was supposed to get on. To me, she looked awfully big. "Will you need help mounting, miss?" Faleron asked.

"Um..." The eternal question: ask for help and risk being seen as a sissy with no practical skills whatsoever (which I was) or attempt to prove my independent, tough true personality? "I think I can manage," I finished decisively. People could mount horses with broken arms. No biggie. He nodded and stepped away to give me room.

Now, I hadn't ridden a horse since I was eight, and my left arm was about as helpful as a wet Fruit Loop. So I put my right foot in the stirrup and grabbed the saddle horn with my right hand, planning to swing my other leg over, but my leg wouldn't bend that far (hitting the ground makes one a little stiff). So I tried to give a little hop with my right to get my leg to the other side. As you may imagine, that didn't work very well: I only saved myself from falling by grabbing the other side of the saddle with my right arm. The end result: me sprawled across the horse with both my legs and my left arm dangling uselessly; the squires, down to a one, laughing; and the horse turning her head and snorting irritably. I kicked my legs a bit, trying to find the stirrup again.

"Miss, would you like some help?" To Faleron's credit, he kept the laughing to a mild shaking of his voice.

"Oh, no," I replied cheerfully, still determined to prove I wasn't a total moron. "But, if you don't mind, could you give me a boost?"

"A...boost?"

"Yeah, just a little shove–"

He tugged at the saddle. "That would work, but if you don't mind..." He mounted normally, standing in the stirrups, and held me up while I righted myself and swung my leg over.

Once we were both settled, he said apologetically, "I know that was more difficult for you, Miss Makensri, but I appreciate your understanding."

This guy could not be real.

Throughout this very interesting– and no doubt entertaining– event, the squires had been chuckling and sometimes outright laughing. Now, with Kel and Neal mounted (they didn't make fools of themselves, but if they'd been in my condition, they _so _would have done the same thing), Faleron guided the horse back to the trail.

The tlot-tlot experience is much nicer on a horse's back than the ground. It's very soothing, like being rocked to sleep. And apparently my spectacular performance had convinced Faleron that I couldn't be trusted to keep myself on a horse, so his arm stayed around my waist. I liked that a lot. And I was tired. Pretty soon I was nodding off.

"I don't think we were properly introduced, mistress," he murmured. I had been on the verge of sleep, but I brought my sleepy mind back as soon as I heard his voice. He had a nice voice. Smooth and light. "I am Faleron of King's Reach, squire to Sir Adeon of Greenmount."

"I'm Laurie Makensri. Pleased to make your acquaintance." More than pleased, but I sure as hell wasn't going to say that.

"The pleasure is mine, Mistress Makensri."

"Call me Laurie." I shifted a little, trying to get as comfortable as possible—meaning as deeply snuggled in Faleron's chest as decorum would allow. "How far is it to the palace?"

"An hour's ride. We had gone quite a ways in the forest. That's where the best hunting is."

"Can I go to sleep, then?"

"Of course. You must be exhausted. I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't be. I've never met anyone as nice as you." God, tiredness is as good as an anesthetic to make you say things you shouldn't. Before he could think of something to say to that, I was asleep.

---

It felt like a minute later that I was woken up. "Mistr–"

"Laurie," I corrected.

I could hear him chuckle. "Laurie, we've arrived. Wait just a moment and I'll help you down." He slid to the floor of the stall and lifted me down. "Thank you," I said.

"My pleasure." He had to stop smiling or I'd do something very, very stupid—like grab him and command him to ravish me mercilessly in the haystacks right then and there. "Kel is going to take you to see a healer. Good luck, Laurie."

"Thank you," I said, trying not to be disappointed. I walked shakily out of the stall, but without any help. That was an improvement. Kel was waiting for me.

"Can you manage on your own?" she asked.

"Yeah, I think so," I answered. She nodded and led me out of the stables.

I know, cliche, but my jaw dropped. The descriptions in the books do not do justice to the enormity of the Royal Palace. I mean, any place that holds the Queen's Riders, Royal Guard, and all three companies of the King's Own, plus all the nobles who want to stay there, plus all their servants, has got to be huge. My careful, multiple readings of the Alanna and Daine books and _First Test_ and _Page_ did not do enough to prepare me for this.

It took a very long time to walk to the infirmary, and Kel walked fast. I had to try really hard to keep up with her. Before my legs gave out entirely, thankfully, we had arrived.

We were barely in the door before a man who very much resembled Neal appeared. "Ah, Keladry," he said with a smile. "It's good to see you. I hope that you are not in need of my ministrations again?"

Kel returned his smile and bowed. "No, your grace," she replied, "but I do have someone who is."

Duke Baird. I needed to get quicker on this uptake thing. Really, this was just embarrassing. Another part of my mind murmured, _You just dropped into a world you didn't think existed. Give yourself time to catch up. _

It was far easier just to ignore that bit of information and berate myself for being ditzy.

The Duke turned to me and I saw his eyebrows quirk in surprise; I wondered why. Well, duh. There's the uptake thing again. I had been outside for who knows how long, my hair must have been a mess, my face was scratched up, my abnormal clothing was covered in dirt, and I was cradling a broken arm to my chest. Adding to this vision of insanity, I did my best to curtsy, which ended with Kel having to keep me from falling down.

With a final, confused look, the Duke turned from me to my companion. "You're in luck, Keladry. I'll take care of your friend myself. Come along, my dear." He led me to a bed nearby and told me to sit. "And you are...?"

"Laurie, Your Grace."

"Laurie. What seems to be the trouble?"

"I think I broke my arm, Your Grace. I fell," I added hurriedly.

"Well, that is easily taken care of. This may sting." He put his hands on my arm, and I could feel my bones crack back into place. The feeling didn't bother me so much as the sound of my muscles sploshing against each other and the pieces of bone grinding back together. Besides, I was generally good at blocking out pain. Before I knew it, my arm had stopped hurting.

"There you are," the Duke said. "You handled it very well."

"It didn't hurt much," I told him. "The sound is a little unnerving, though."

The look he gave me was not so much sharp as alert. "Yes, it can be." He cleared his throat and turned to Kel. "Thank you, Keladry."

Obviously recognizing her dismissal, Kel bowed and left. Duke Baird turned back to me.

"Laurie, if you don't mind, I believe that it would be best if you stayed here for a night, just so I can keep my eye on you. Your body suffered a good deal of trauma from your...fall. Nothing too bad," he amended, seeing my anxiety, "just some bone bruises and the like. But I think it would be beneficial if you had some rest."

I nodded. "All right." Rest sounded very good right now.

"I'll have a servant bring you some clean clothes, and– you can wash yourself?"

I nodded, too tired to explain that I was a big girl and would not be subjected to the indignity of being _given a bath._

"Do you have anyone that will miss you?" he asked. He meant it casually, with "miss you" meaning "mind that you're gone for a little," not, "care that you're gone." But it hurt anyway.

I drew patterns on the sheet with my finger. Circles, diamonds, and spirals-- nice and simple. If I concentrated on those, then I wouldn't have to think yet. And as an added bonus, if I kept my eyes down, no one could tell that I was crying.

"No. You won't be able to find them." My voice shook. Flowers, figure eights, stars.

The Duke waited a moment before replying. "I see," he finally said. "We will speak again when you've had a chance to rest."

He left, and that was when I let myself cry a little.

---

I could see the stars outside of the window. I rolled over, still uncomfortable. Dammit. It wasn't fair. Three different disgusting potions and they hadn't thought to put a sleep aid in any of them. Really, who forgets to knock out the patients?

I'd slept a little after Duke Baird left. A few minutes after I woke, a woman– I think her name was Taya-- came over and led me to a back room, where they had a big wooden bucket that I guess passed for a bath tub. At least I got to clean up.

She handed me a change of clothes– a plain, undyed shift and underwear– and took me back to my bed. I really didn't want the food she brought, but I ate some of it anyway. Maybe if I looked healthy they'd let me go sooner, and I could find a way home.

I needed to get home. Mom would be freaking out. She didn't need more drama in her life. Shouldn't the sudden death of your husband and raising a teenager alone create enough problems? Not that she'd been entirely "there" since Dad died. I kept telling her to see a therapist or something, and she always said that she was fine. She thought I couldn't tell when she was lying.

So instead of sleeping, because some moron forgot to add some Benadryl or its Tortallan equivalent to my nasty potions, I'd lain awake for the last several hours, trying to figure out how to get home.

The first thing would be to ask Kel or Neal to take me back where they found me. They should be able to find it. If they wouldn't help me, then I'd just have to take my chances. What did I remember about the place I woke up? Oh, yeah: nothing. It had been dark and my head hurt, and my powers of observation aren't always that skillful anyway. I'd slept on the ride back, so I couldn't retrace my steps, either.

Wait, maybe first I should try to figure out what happened. A portal? They talked about one of those in _The Realms of the Gods_, but that had been between the mortal and immortal worlds. I didn't know if it worked the same way between mortal realms. I supposed that must have been what happened. I mean, no way in hell was I still in my world. It was the only plausible (yeah, right) explanation.

So I'd managed to step into a portal. I thought only gods could make those. Or maybe the rules of the universe were just completely ignored in my case. Yeah, that'd be my luck.

My luck! Hey, I was in Tortall! I'd met Kel and Neal and Cleon and Merric and Duke Baird and I'd been hit on by Faleron of King's Reach! It wasn't all that bad!

Except for being in pain. And knowing that my mom was scared for me, and that she wouldn't remember to check the expiration date on the milk without me, and the frightening thought (which I refused to entertain) that I may never get home.

I needed to sleep. I couldn't do anything if I was exhausted. But I couldn't fall asleep, either. Stupid conundrums. I hated being awake when I didn't want to be. At home, when things went wrong, I went to sleep. Not the best way to deal with my problems, but at least dreams are usually kinder than reality. Except now I couldn't sleep. As I said before, unfair.

OK, in all those fics the main characters are always extremely concerned for the OC's welfare. They take time off from all their other duties to nurse the OC back to ass-kicking health. So Duke Baird had kind of done that, but where was Kel to be my new best friend? Where was Numair to throw himself headlong into figuring out my problem? And jeez, where was Faleron to develop the not-so-subtle sexual tension? I had just fallen out of the friggin sky. I was _entitled_ to all that crap.

Of all the Tortalls to step into, I had to step into the one where I was an insignificant nobody.

Well, there wasn't much I could do to change that. I could get angsty later. But, as for getting home...

And just as my thoughts were getting somewhere, I finally fell asleep.

---

That _stupid_ bell. Why would they do something so _stupid_ like put a bloody huge _bell_ in the middle of the palace and ring it at the freaking ass-crack of dawn? There were people who needed every bit of beauty sleep they could get, thank you! And I did _not_ need to be woken up so rudely! You would think that, just once, I could sleep until I woke up naturally, but no– the closest I'd come was being gently awoken by a hot squire with an obvious thing for me–

So maybe that hadn't been so bad. But the rest of it sucked.

Especially that _bell_.

With a groan, I resigned myself to the fact that I was awake and would not go back to sleep. So I pulled myself up and tried to figure out what to do.

My thoughts went in circles: portals, gods, home, Mom, the clearing, stupid bell, back to portals...

So maybe not so much circles as totally unrelated topics that I just thought about randomly. Analysis was never my strong point.

As I was jumping to point K (damn bell) again, Taya brought me breakfast. Nice, mushy porridge. She tried to ask me questions about myself, being a friendly and rational morning person (I bloody hated her), but I was pretty unresponsive. I think that she figured out I was annoyed when I started dropping spoonfuls back into the bowl from higher and higher distances with the intent of splattering as much on her as possible. Yeah, I know, childish. But it was early, I didn't have any idea what to do, and I wanted my mom. Short of that, I wanted to be alone. At least it worked; she left and let me finish my breakfast in broody peace.

About an hour later, Duke Baird came in. He smiled at me cheerfully. "Hello, Laurie," he said. "How does your arm feel?"

I shrugged. "Fine." I paused. "Listen, can I go soon? I've got to..." I trailed off, realizing that I still didn't know what I had to do.

"Got to what?" he asked. I think he could tell what I was feeling. As if I'd wandered into a swamp, but hadn't worried because I had a map to get me home, and then suddenly realized that the map was written in Chinese.

After a few moments, he continued. "Laurie, if you don't mind, I have a few things I'd like to discuss with you. May I?" He gestured to a nearby stool, and I nodded that he could sit. He did, and his manner told me that I should get comfortable.

"First, Laurie," he said slowly, "I would like to know about you. There are some questions I'd like to ask you, but those can wait. Just...tell me about yourself."

_That_ was unexpected. "Well," I began, "my name is Laurie Makensri. I'm fifteen. My mother's name is Susan." I started drawing on the sheets again. There wasn't much else to tell.

"Your father?" he asked carefully.

"He died a few years ago." It was strange how saying that never got easier.

"I am sorry for your loss." He said it so well that I almost believed him. "Is there anything else you'd like to tell me? Where you are from, perhaps?"

I considered lying, but then I made the mistake of looking up. His eyes held genuine concern for me. He really did want to help me. That made it so much harder to lie.

I chose my words carefully. "Is there...a test you can do...to see if a person is sane?" _That_ threw him off. I cut in as he opened his mouth. "Because what I'm going to say, you're not going to believe me, and you'll think I'm crazy. I want some way to prove that I'm not before I say anything."

The Duke took a deep breath. "I would have sensed any of your mental problems yesterday if you had any. I didn't. Whatever you tell me, I will believe you."

I eyed him suspiciously. "Are you sure?"

"I am sure, Laurie, that I have heard more shocking things that whatever you will tell me."

OK. Here goes. I took a deep breath. "I don't think that I'm from this world."

I would have expected him not to believe me, or pretend to listen whilst motioning someone over with a Tortallan tranquilizer. I was ready to argue my point, to stand my ground, to defend my sanity. In short, I was ready for anything but a slight eyebrow quirk and a quiet command to go on.

So, I told the truth. I started with going to my thinking spot, explained that I was angry and not thinking straight, then that I shoved my arm into a strange-looking lilac bush and was sucked through time and space to land in a clearing right off the best hunting trail in the Royal Forest. It didn't take nearly as long as I had thought it would.

I finished with, "And then I came here." Lame, but that wasn't my biggest worry at the moment. Duke Baird was silent for a minute or so. I was just about to tell him that if he'd kindly point me in the correct direction I'd show myself to the asylum when he finally spoke.

"Well," he said, "that explains why you were wearing pink shoes."

Doh.

"Um, yeah, they're called sneakers, Converses, actually, they're pretty popular–"

He held up his hand to stop me. "Do you have anything else to say, Laurie, of greater relevance than the popularity of your shoes?" I was about to get angry when I realized that he was joking with me.

Whoa. "Just, Your Grace, my sincere relief that you don't appear to be beckoning for a soothing drink." If he could make a joke, then so could I. So there.

He smiled. "Since that has been established, I think we should move on to other matters." His eyes were very green, and at the moment, very kind. "I understand that it may be too soon for you to want to consider these matters, but I won't be able to keep you here under the guise of a healing arm for much longer. I would appreciate it if you would let me finish before you say anything." I nodded.

"Yesterday when you came in, I noticed that you had some strange injuries on your body. Some were consistent with a fall, but some, like your deep bone bruises and general muscle strain, made no sense at all. And then when I healed your arm, I noticed trace amounts of substances in your body that I couldn't identify." He smiled as he added, "After twenty years of healing, there are few substances that I don't recognize.

"You told me then that the healing had not hurt too much. That was not too odd, but the fact that you could _hear_ your bones moving was. Most people can't. I think that you have a healing Gift. I would like to have someone check for me, but I'm worried now that they may see that your body has a few– anomalies.

"That ties in with my next thought. What you said about this...portal...completely confounds me. However, I have limited most of my magical experience to healing. An advanced academic mage might be able to help you. There is a man who lives in the palace named Numair Salmalin. He is one of the greatest mages in the world, and he might know if this sort of thing has happened before. He is, though, out of the palace at the moment, and may be for some months."

Dammit. Numair _so_ could have helped me. I was surprised that I hadn't thought of it myself, except for being offended that he hadn't just popped up and offered. Just my luck that he was probably off visiting his parents or something.

"I can try to discreetly discover if any of the other mages know something, but, until then, I believe that you may be stuck here. However," he added as my face fell, "I have a proposition for you. Can you read and write?" I nodded, resisting the urge to say "duh." Literacy wasn't as common in Tortall. "Good. My records keeper just left me for a better position, and since I am already short on healers, I can't ask one of my apprentices to do it as well. It doesn't pay very well, but it does provide room and board, and I think we can arrange to find you some clothing. It would give you something to do until we can send you home."

I started drawing on the sheets yet again. So now I had options: I could set off blindly on my own, trying to find a portal that may or may not exist, or I could take a job, earn money, and get help along the way. But Mom, my friends...

Trying to ignore the wrenching feeling in my chest, I looked up at Duke Baird. Quietly, I answered, "I'll do it."


	2. When Life Gives You Grain, Make Ale!

Author's note: Still complete and total Mary-Sue self-indulgence. Enjoy, dears, and don't judge me too harshly for the obligatory shopping scene.

---

Cassiopeia

Chapter 2: When Life Gives You Fermented Grains, Make Ale!

I settled pretty well into my new life, eased by starting my job that day. I was to keep an inventory of the supplies, record who came in and out and what they needed done. If we needed more bandages, I was to buy more. If one of the healers heard a rumor about a new treatment, I was supposed to check into it. If a patient was resisting, I had to hold him (they were usually men) down while the healers treated him. Basically, I did whatever needed to be done that no one else had time to do.

The Duke and I agreed that it would be best if I kept my origin secret. However, I needed a way to explain my decidedly odd speech and garb. "Tusaine," he said. "You're from a village in northern Tusaine. You came searching for fame and fortune." That got both of us grinning. A healer's tweeny was about the farthest possible thing from fame and fortune in the palace.

"I'll have to come up with something better than that. Sometime. It'll do for now."

I shared a room with Taya, the woman I'd splattered with oatmeal, and Amine, the other novice healer. When the Duke introduced me to my roommates, I worried that Taya would hold my admittedly childish behavior against me. When I apologized, she just said that eventually patients start to blend together and she hadn't realized it was me. As my jaw dropped– major case of foot-in-mouth disease– she grinned and said that she didn't care. She was just about the most easy-going person I'd ever met. She and Amine were kind and cheerful, and they made my transition much easier, welcoming me into their lives with open arms.

The day after I started work, Taya took me to the market to buy myself some real clothes. I protested, saying that the Duke had just told me to go to the palace tailors, and Taya said in a disdainful tone that the palace tailors didn't know a sleeve hole from a certain vulgar bodily orifice. My response was to stutter, "But– but– but how will I pay?" An understandable response, given that I was completely and utterly broke.

"I have money," she replied calmly. "Don't get any ideas, though. You're paying me back. Besides, I know a good dressmaker with a cheap price."

So we wandered through the lower city for a morning. I tried very hard not to let my jaw drop, not succeeding. Taya looked at me and laughed. "Stop looking like such a bumpkin, country girl!" I wasn't about to explain that it wasn't the size of the market, it was the contents—most of which I'd only seen at Renaissance faires-- so I let her play the experienced older guide. With her help at the dressmaker's, I found two plain pairs of breeches, three white shirts, undergarments, and three matching skirts with sleeveless tops. When I told her I was surprised by the choice of shirt, she said, "Sleeves just get in the way, and it's too warm under our robes as it is. If you have to look decent, just pull on a shirt underneath." I changed into my dress in the store, since I was still wearing Taya's ill-fitting loans, and handed her things out to her from the dressing room.

"How does it fit?" she called.

"Fine," I replied. It could be worse, I guess. This outfit "matched my eyes," according to Taya; I would call it a nondescript gray-blue. It was too loose around my chest, but I was used to that. At least the skirt flared to hide my hips and thunder thighs. And it was too long, but I was used to that, too.

I stepped out of the dressing room, and Taya looked me over critically. Then she called, "Mistress, you are sure you don't have anything shorter?" The clerk shook her head, and Taya sighed, "Well, we'll just have to have it altered later. Color looks nice on you, by the way." She turned to the counter to pay as I stood nervously in the back. As I glanced around, I noticed that Taya and the clerk were whispering conspiratorially. After a few seconds, Taya gave the woman another coin, and a small package surreptitiously changed hands. Then Taya called that we needed to get back before lunch, and I put the incident out of my mind.

---

I spent the next few weeks getting used to palace life. Like I said, I took to most of it pretty well, but there were some things that I just had trouble with. For instance, the lack of toilet paper. Cleaned rags are all well and good, but toilet paper is much, much better. Rather than explain the nitty-gritty on the matter, I'll just leave it at that.

Also, the food. The palace cooks were wonderful, but it wasn't the same. Pepperoni pizza and sugar did not exist in Tortall, sadly. Nor did iced coffee drinks. And the loss of Cheetos was pretty rough on me. On the bright side, fewer preservatives meant, generally, fewer calories, and I noticed that I didn't have as much padding on my thighs with joy. The other side effect of this was that as the rest of me shrunk, my boobs shrunk even more, much to my frustration and Taya and Amine's amusement.

I spent a lot of time reading. Usually I had several hours to myself after dinner, and with no TV, no music, and no computer, I plowed through a book a day. Most of them were from Duke Baird's shelves, books about medicinal herbs, human anatomy, or common healing methods. After I'd run through those, the Duke requested that I spend some time reading up on the history of the Eastern Lands so that it wouldn't be as obvious in conversation that I wasn't from around here. They bored me out of my mind, but, with nothing better to do, I read them.

Occasionally during the day Duke Baird would call me over from my desk, saying something like, "Laurie, see how this break protrudes through the skin here?" or, "Watch how I check for a concussion in this boy." After a few weeks, he showed me how to meditate, and encouraged me to practice it daily. Slowly, little by little, I became able to control my magic. To me, it felt like using a muscle that I hadn't known about until then. While the other healers tended a person's major injuries, I would practice by dealing with the small cuts and bruises or calming the patient down. Every time I managed to do so, I was amazed and overjoyed. One night, Amine slung her arm over my shoulders, laughing, and told me that she wished every healer were as enthusiastic as me.

"I like being able to help," I said with a shrug.

"A lot of people your age would be going crazy, moving as slow as you are." I made a face when she said "people your age." Amine was only sixteen.

"I am too making progress. Did you see that graze on the woman's arm that I managed? I didn't even need to stitch it!"

Amine grinned again. "You're making progress, Laurie. Slow but sure."

I had never had a sibling, and I'd never shared a room before, but I got along very well with Taya and Amine. They were kind and looked out for me, like older sisters. Another benefit was that they filled me in on the gossip that "every palace girl should know," ranging from who to avoid to who to stay on good terms with to who was sleeping with who. I marveled that there could be any palace dirt they didn't know. One night the discussion turned to the squires.

"Watch out for Vinson of Genlith," Taya said sternly. "I've heard bad things about him, and he's cold-hearted."

"Balduin of Disart is intimidating, but he really has a good heart. He helped me carry in the new supplies last week," Amine told us. From her dreamy eyes, even I could see that she had another crush. Taya rolled her eyes at me. Amine's romantic personality was a constant source of amusement for her.

"You're just like Neal, Amine– always floating from one dream to the next. Neal of Queenscove," she clarified for me. "He was in a few of my classes at the University. He's a good person to be friends with, if only so that he doesn't decide you're worthy of ridicule." She grinned wryly. "He's very entertaining, as long as you're not his subject matter."

"Odd how close he and Keladry are. They're so different, I would never have expected them to be friends."

"Their entire study group is odd, Amine. Oh, that's right, Laurie doesn't know about the 'study group,'" Taya added with a knowing grin.

"Oh, excellent!" Amine shrieked. "More fodder for the little filly!"

"Don't call me a filly, and tell me what you're talking about," I said sternly. I'd just pretend that I didn't know about the hazing war of the pages. With delighted embellishments, they went through the whole familiar story.

After they'd finished, I realized that I had an opening to find out what I really wanted to know. "Who was in the group?" I asked innocently.

"Hmm, well, obviously Keladry and Neal, the Prince, though he didn't fight, I believe– who else?" Taya directed the last bit at Amine.

She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Seaver of Tasride, Merric of Hollyrose, Esmond of Nicoline, and Faleron of King's Reach were the main ones, I think. A few of the fourth-year pages now."

"I think I've seen Faleron. What does he look like?"

Amine sighed dramatically and Taya laughed. "Devastatingly handsome," Amine answered, falling back on her bed. "Dark hair, dark eyes, tanned skin, chivalrous, kind, and completely unaware of the effect he has on women."

"Effect?" Taya glanced at me curiously, and I looked at my nails. If she guessed my game, it wouldn't be because I gave her any help.

"They fall head over heals in love with him. At least, the ones who don't mind that he's still a squire do. He treats everyone with just as much courtesy as he'd give his own mother. Not that I'd risk being discourteous to Lady Getrine. She can be a horror. But Faleron is a good lad."

"And if I didn't know better, I'd say of a lad-loving persuasion," Taya finished.

_That_ caught my attention. "Really?"

Amine grinned. "Only in that he's never shown interest in any particular girl. But that could change. And as we've never seen any evidence to suggest that he has _no_ interest in females, I'd say we've still got a chance."

"Better no interest than too much," Taya added ominously.

"Who's had too much?" Amine asked. Taya glared at her.

"Too many boys his age." The slight disdain she put on 'boys' was characteristic of the fact that, despite being only eighteen, Taya considered most of the palace men– regardless of age– immature. "Especially some of the squires. Genlith, like I said-- he scares me. And Joren of Stone Mountain has a very strange interest in Keladry."

"What?" I asked.

"He must be in love with her-- or he hates her, one of the two," Amine added. "He almost seems to follow her sometimes. I've seen him watching her at Midwinter." She shook her head. "In some ways, he's scarier than Genlith."

Taya nodded in agreement. "Genlith's a brute, but you can tell he's a brute. But with Joren..."

"You can never tell what he's thinking."

Taya nodded again. "Exactly."

Amine glanced at me with a smile. "So, little filly, the moral is to stay away from lads. They're more trouble than they're worth."

I snorted. "I will if you'll take your own advice." They both chuckled, knowing as well as I did that it would be only a few days before Amine came home with a new unknowing paramour.

Taya glanced at the candle on the table. "Time to sleep, little filly. Before we know it we'll have talked to dawn."

I made my way to my bed as Amine did the same. "I'll sleep, but I'm not a little filly," I muttered as Taya blew out the candle, putting an end to all conversation.

--

Before long, it was really spring. One April night, I ignored my reading and sat in the garden, alone and thinking. I had stopped crying-- mostly-- after my first night, but today was my mother's birthday. I couldn't bear the though of her spending it alone. So I hid by a lilac bush and felt sorry for myself. After an hour or so I heard footsteps. I was trying to decide if the dark would disguise my bloodshot eyes or if I should just stay hidden when Taya spoke.

"Laurie?"

There went my hiding plan. Here's to darkness, then. "I'm here," I answered, standing up. My friend squinted at me.

"Have you been crying?"

"No." I ruined the lie by wiping at my eyes.

"You're a horrible liar. Sit." She gestured towards a bench. "Sit." I obeyed-- it was impossible to refuse Taya in her imperious mood. "Now, explain."

"I'm just... homesick, is all."

Taya responded with silence, seemingly thinking hard. Then, she said in a very commanding tone, "Get up." Again, nothing from me but total deference to her will. "Come on." She led me through the garden, walking so quickly that I had to trot to keep up. I protested a little when we left the palace grounds. Taya just glanced at me and continued.

"Fine," I muttered. "Ignore the crying girl." Taya took me at my word. We walked silently, and I didn't say anything until we were in the Lower City. That was when I decided that I had to speak up for our safety.

"Um, Taya?"

"Yes?"

"Why are we in a location that could result in possible death for us both?"

That was when she started glaring at me. "You hush." Then, "We're going to a tavern to see some friends of mine."

Now, some people may think that by journeying to a seedy tavern at night a fifteen-year-old girl like myself would obviously be excited, because she could prove to all the thieves, escaped convicts, and street tough brawlers that she could match them punch for punch. I, being normal, realized that this was not so. In a seedy tavern at night a fifteen year-old girl like myself would obviously be scared witless, because she could prove to all the thieves, escaped convicts, and street-tough brawlers that she had never so much as bitched-slapped anyone. Very aware of the fact that it had been two years since my self-defense seminar in P.E., I prayed that Taya really _didn't_ hold the porridge incident against me and that she hadn't gone completely insane. I went through the few moves I did know: eye gouge, knee to the groin...and knee to the groin. And at that point I told myself that I was going to die.

We reached what was apparently our destination, and Taya towed me through the door. Someone looked up at us and bellowed. He-- I believe it was a he, though it's quite possible it was a rather massive animated boulder-- ran towards me, and at that point I realized that I was going to die much sooner than I had previously thought. I see no use in saving my dignity by saying that my last thoughts were for the selfless protection of Taya or what my mother would do without me. No, in my last moments on this earth I mused that I really should have commanded Faleron to ravish me in the haystacks while I had the chance.

And then the boulder ignored me and hugged-- _hugged_-- Taya. Last time I checked, boulders did not tenderly embrace whilst shouting joyful salutations.

Doh.

After a minute or two, Taya noticed my very confused face and the tavern-goes who had come to say hello, or stab a knife in my back: I mean, I thought they were smiling, but they still looked rather menacing. "Laurie," she said, grinning, "this is my friend Habath. I helped his wife birth last month."

"_Helped,_ nothing!" Habath shouted, pounding Taya on the back. "Saved my lassie and the babe too! You and any friend you bring drink and eat on me!" He clapped a hand on my shoulder and steered us to his table. Almost instantly a barmaid had brought us both ale, and a crowd had gathered around the table. "Um, Taya?" I asked, lifting up my tankard to show her.

"Go ahead, drink it. It's not poisoned!" She turned away, and a slim, muscled man immediately grabbed her attention. Blinking at the ale with suspicion, I lifted it cautiously to my lips and sipped.

Habath chose that moment to yell in my ear, "A friend of Taya's, eh?" I jumped half a foot. The result was that my first taste of alcohol was a much, much larger one than I had expected, one that had the effect of making me cough and tears run down my cheeks. What felt like a large frozen slab of meat smacked me on the back, and I coughed some more. The slab of meat turned out to be Habath's hand, and even though he was trying to help, I still resented the bruise I knew I would have in the morning.

"Sorry bout that, lass," he murmured-- for him, a murmur sounded like a normal person's angry growl. Finding a handkerchief in his pocket, he handed it to me, and I started wiping at my mouth while he slid into the seat beside me-- the only one at the table left open. "You're a friend of Taya's, then?"

I nodded, still not quite up to talking. "A good girl, your friend. A good girl." His eyes were on Taya, but he was looking somewhere far off. "My wife wasn't having an easy time of it-- her first, and the midwife didn't know naught from her knee. Your lass'd been here before, told me to come for her if she was needed. She left the noble she'd been healing to come with me, and soon after, out came my little girl, right as rain." He looked back at me and grinned. "You'll find naught better than her in this world, mark my words and Crooked God witness."

I finally thought I might be able to speak. "She comes here often, then?" I asked.

He nodded. "When she can and when she's needed. At least every week." My mind flashed back to all of Taya's evening disappearances that I hadn't payed much attention to before now. "She does what she can to make the world right." Someone called for Habath to settle a bet, so he smiled and left.

I was left alone again. This time, though, I watched Taya. She greeted everyone who came to her, treated them all with respect, no matter how frightening or pitiful they looked. She knew their names and asked about their families and business. To that one she gave a few herbs from her pouch, this one she healed an infection-- all in a crowded, noisy tavern with drinks being spilled on her.

Suddenly I felt small and petty. Here was a world full of suffering and hurt, and instead of brooding on her own hurts, Taya stood up and did something to ease others'. Little acts, in the view of all the pain in the world, but enough to change things just a little. Enough to save a tiny life or let a man work to earn his living. She could never heal all the pain of everyone, or even just one person, or right things forever. But in the here and now, that moment, it helped. And somehow, Taya's doing what she could seemed like more than enough to change the world.

That moment, I understood what Taya was trying to show me. We all have pain, it's impossible to avoid. But we choose-- we can choose to think only of our own suffering, or we can use it to understand others' pain, and ease theirs for a little while. And by easing another person's suffering, we can ease our own for a little while, too.

After an hour or so, Taya stood up and took my arm. We said goodbye with people shouting till we were out the door, leaving the noise behind for the momentarily quiet streets. We kept the silence until we reached the temple district. Turning my head, I caught a glimpse of lights on the river and darkened houses. The seedy parts of Corus lay before me, alongside the bourgeois houses. Behind me was the palace-- Amine, a cup of tea, and a warm bed for the night, a purpose in the morning. I looked at the city and smiled. It was beautiful-- and now, it was my town to heal. Little by little, a moment at a time.

"Taya?" I asked quietly.

"Hm?"

"Next time you go, will you take me with you?"

She grinned.


End file.
